Negan's Mistress
by superprincesspea
Summary: Negan doesn't own you but he knows exactly where to find you. #Negan Smut Week, Negan/Reader, Negan/You, Explicit Sexual Content, One Shot, Smut and a little but of fluff too. (I've added an extra chapter.)
1. Negan's Mistress

"Marry me," Negan says alerting you to his presence in the room. You turn to see him carefully placing Lucille on one of the tables before he looks at you, "then I won't have to come all the way to the ass end of nowhere to find you."

You roll your eyes. This isn't the first time he's asked you to be his wife, usually you say 'no' this time you say, "how many wives have you got?"

He scrunches his face for a moment, "everybody knows how many wives I've got."

You stand up from the desk where you've been sitting. You call this place the dungeon. Its lit only by a single incandescent bulb swinging bare from the ceiling and even though Negan has offered you better jobs than working down here you've always refused. It might be the dungeon but you're not afraid of a little dark. You smile, "I want you to say it."

He cocks his head, hesitates, "five."

"Louder."

"I have five wives. Fucking hell sweetheart, if I'd known it was gonna be a pop fucking quiz down here I might not have fucking bothered."

You laugh before walking to him, standing toe to toe, your hands brush down his leather jacket feeling the familiar crinkles in the old leather, "how many mistresses do you have?"

He smiles now, "one."

"Why would I want to me number six when I could be number one?"

He doesn't answer, instead his thumb brushes your cheek, working a path until its smoothing across your lips. He never kisses you and you never ask why. You bite the tip of his thumb, giving it a light tug, never taking your eyes from his. You might not be a wife but down here you're in charge, you can walk away whenever you choose and he has to work for you. Every single time.

"Did you get my present?" Negan says expectantly, his eyes falling to the crest of your cleavage peeking out from where your shirt is buttoned down.

You don't answer, not yet. You shrug yourself from his arms, turning to slowly stack papers on the nearby desk like you're a busy woman and he is nothing more than a nuisance. You like making him wait a while before slowly glancing over your shoulder with a coquettish flick of your hair, " _maybe_."

You go back to your papers, your whole body electric as you wait for him to make his move. You can almost see the desire on Negan's face just from the way he is breathing. Then he moves, boots on concrete, hollow in an almost empty room. Five quick strides that have your heart racing in time.

One of his hands splays across your stomach, the other sweeps the hair off the back of your neck before his lips press to your skin. You sigh, leaning into him, wanting to feel his entire body against yours. You're lost in the way his lips feel so soft and his breath feels so hot on the skin at the nape of your neck. When Negan kisses you like this the exact moment you start to lose any of the control you thought you had.

His hands sweep across your body, outlining your every curve before cupping your breasts with a firm squeeze. Your nipples push against your bra eager for his touch and satisfied as his thumb brushes with just the right pressure to send a bolt of pleasure to your core.

"Show me," he demands in a husky whisper before releasing you, leaving you lost and cold, your legs a little shaky.

You hear the scrape of a chair dragging across the floor and breath in one long breath before turning to see him sitting in the middle of the room.

You kick off your shoes. The floor is like ice but you don't stop, all you can think about is the way his eyes are devouring you, catching every movement and never losing intense interest as button after button pops loose.

Your shirt falls open giving the first glimpse of Negan's present. Earlier in the day you'd found the delicate black mesh spread in contrast across your white bed sheets, right out in the open where everyone could see and everyone could know that you belonged to Negan.

You let your shirt glide from your shoulders to a pool on the floor, the sheer bra reveals everything and Negan eats every inch of it up before his gaze meets yours and he smiles, "more."

You've played this game with Negan before, he likes to watch you strip, his hands grasping his thighs to stop them from touching anything. You unbuckle your belt, slowly, he likes this part. His eyes dance and his smile widens at the soft chinking of the strap gliding against the frame. You pop the buttons of your jeans with a single tug that reveals the second glimpse of Negan's present.

He points his finger in the air, twirling it, and you turn looking over your shoulder to watch him as he watches you shimming out of your jeans, your ass swaying seductively, the mesh panties leaving you almost bare.

Negan's breath hitches, his eyes are hooded and you know it won't be long until you're feeling every part of how much he wants you. "Fuck," he swallows hard and you love how much you can affect him.

You kick your jeans aside, turning back to face him. Goosebumps creep along your flesh and you shiver, your nipples bunching even harder in the cold.

Negan stands, his hands red hot on you're cold skin, "tell me again why I can't marry you and keep you in my bed all fucking day..." his fingers brush the straps of your bra down, "just like this." He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, the tops of your breasts and heat begins the curl along you're veins, pushing all the goosebumps away.

"I don't want to be something you can have all the time," you pant, your fingers looping in his jeans to keep you standing upright.

Negan tugs the back of your hair hard, his tongue licking along your throat until he presses his cheek against yours, "you want me desperate."

"Yes." You want him as desperate as he makes you.

His fingers intertwine with yours, pressing your hand against his erection, still contained behind his zipper but full and ready for release. You squeeze it, enjoying the way the throaty noise he makes before he pulls your hand away, "baby, you always get exactly what you fucking want."

Negan flips you around, pushing you into the desk and grinding his erection against your ass with a low groan. You hear him pulling open his belt buckle followed by the rip of foil. He grabs your hips before one hand snakes between your thighs and underneath the elastic of your panties. Two calloused fingers brush against your folds, teasing you open before they plunge inside without resistance. You moan as his fingers swirl, finding the spot that makes your legs weak.

"So wet," he purrs, adding a third finger, gently teasing your g-spot. You're breaths are ragged, sucking in and out desperate for oxygen to feed the climax he is creating.

When his fingers stop their magic you whimper, desperate for more. Negan grunts in satisfaction, "I love how fucking needy I make you."

When he slaps your ass and laughs you crash down from your high, frustrated, your body throbbing still trying to find its release.

There's a tug at your panties, a rip of fabric and yet another pair perish at Negan's hands.

"You'll have to find me more," you say, annoyed.

Negan laughs again, "finding you new panties is the second best part of my day."

"And the first?"

You feel him against you, the tip of his cock slowly sinking inside, making you glad you haven't come yet. "This," he groans stretching you open until he is all the way in.

You shudder, clutching to the table, pushing against him, desperate for more. He doesn't disappoint. As a lover, Negan never disappoints. He pulls all the way out and slams into you harder this time. The whole desk shunts forward from the force, taking you both stumbling with it but that doesn't stop him. Instead he grips your shoulder to keep you firmly in place as he buries himself over and over to the point it almost hurts. You cry out at the intensity of each thrust and he doesn't slow down, he fucks you even harder.

He thumbs your nipple through the mesh of your bra, flicking it and pinching it so you are nothing but sensation, completely adrift in the sea of Negan. His cock filling your every inch, his thumb torturing your nipple and his belt buckle scratching along the inside of your thigh. He didn't even take his clothes off before he bent you over and fucked you, the idea of how desperate he was to have you makes you even more aroused, a flood of wetness seeping around Negan's cock.

"That's right, scream for me, I want every fucker in the Sanctuary to hear you screaming my name," Negan demands, never missing a toe curling beat.

You have no choice but to obey as pleasure curls tighter and tighter. You can hardly contain the intensity of it. You want it to last longer and to feel more of him but his hand falls from your nipple quickly finding the sweet spot between your legs and you're gone. He presses only once and you shatter, the tight build of pleasure releases so hard your legs quiver to jelly. "Oh Negan, yes, please," you plead for more, less, you can hardly take another touch yet you never want it to end.

Negan stiffens, his fingers digging into your hips as you feel his cock pumping out his release with your name grunting hard from his lips. You stay pressed against the desk with Negan still inside you as you both float down from the aftershocks.

A tingle of goosebumps sweeps across your flesh, reminding you where you are and you shiver.

"Cold baby?" Negan gives you the lightest kiss in the centre of your back, the scruff of his beard adding to the tingle before he turns you over and holds you against him.

You unzip his jacket, wrapping your arms around him, stealing his warmth. Moments like these you can forget about anything but Negan and the way his heart thuds in his chest.

"Marry me," he says again and you look up at him. His eyes seem so soft in the low light, his expression so sincere and you wonder just how many times you can keep turning this man down.

* * *

 **A/N-** I should have been doing paperwork but Negan Smut Week inspired me to put pleasure before business ;) Hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Waste a Moment

A/N- Negan's Mistress was written as a oneshot and I'm not planning on turning it into a full WIP but I was asked to add another part and here it is... hope you enjoy ;)

* * *

"Look at that," you say, pulling over the truck.

Negan laughs, "there's only one kind of toy store I like going in sweetheart."

"Oh come on, it's the end of the world... people wanna play scrabble." Before he can protest too much you're already removing the keys from the ignition and escaping the truck with one satisfying slam of the door.

Negan never takes you on runs, in fact you barely get to leave the Sanctuary. Seeing the bright letters of the toy store has ignited something in you. Something you never thought you'd see or feel again. Your inner child.

Negan's huffing as he climbs out of the truck and you wonder if he has an inner child or if he is just pure man right down to his steely core. Then you wonder if he's ever going to bring you out on a run again after this. You're half expecting him to say 'no' and command you to 'get your ass back into the truck', but he doesn't. He doesn't even complain, he breaks into the store as easy as stealing candy from a baby.

In fact Negan even holds the door open, gesturing with Lucille, "knock yourself out sweetheart."

You smile, teasing his good humour, "see, we're having fun already." Although you're pretty damn sure Negan had other things in mind when he left panties on your bed last night and a note that said, 'let's go for a ride'. You're certain his ideas had nothing to do with your inner child and everything to do with your outer woman but fuck it, he could wait.

You unsheathe the knife Negan has given you and hold it like you know how to use it. You're quietly confident that Negan would take care of anything that might lurk in the aisles. You're pretty sure he wouldn't have even opened the door of the store if he thought you might get hurt.

He might be a lot of things but he's not stupid.

Thankfully the glass outer walls provide just enough natural light to reach even the furthest corner of the store as you begin your careful exploration. It doesn't take long to confirm that there's nothing but the two of you and you don't want to think of the reasons why a toy store remains unlooted and untouched. You just want to be in the moment and forget about the world outside the glass doors.

You lose Negan as he becomes distracted by the ping pong paddles but you're already formulating other plans. The sort of plans that might ensure you definitely never come on a run again, but sometimes the reward far outweighs the risk.

The next time you see Negan you hide behind a shelf full of Barbie dolls. He's bouncing a ping pong ball on a paddle, a goofy grin on his face and you smile, almost changing your mind about what you're going to do. Then you think about his wives, the woman you have to share him with and suddenly his carefree grin annoys you a little bit. Hell, it annoys you more than a little bit so you do what any woman would do. You shoot him. Right in the side of his head, bullseye.

"What the fuck?" he shouts, clasping his hand to his temple before bending down to pick up the bright yellow bullet that has settled between his boots.

You wait for him to look your way before you blow the end of your plastic gun like Annie Oakley. Although doing anything but laugh like a hyena seems challenging at this point.

"Oh, you're gonna regret that," his face fills with a fiendish grin as he throws down his ping pong paddle.

"Maybe," you shrug trying desperately to contain your smile as you reach for part two of your plan. You clutch the huge plastic gatling gun awkwardly, "I might regret this more."

"Now hold on a minute," Negan holds up his hands, his face suddenly not as amused. You think of his wives and sure, maybe you want to punish him a little.

So like any good Savior, your own grin widens and you show absolutely no mercy. You pull the trigger with glee chasing his dash to the nearest aisle with a hailstorm of yellow foam and zero regrets.

Then you hear him laughing before he shouts, "you better watch your back sweetheart, this is fucking war."

Maybe he has an inner child after all, or maybe he just really hates getting beaten by a girl.

You don't know how long Negan chases you around the store but when your throat is hoarse from laughter, your body is hot from exhaustion and the tiles are covered in foam you finally decide to wave a white flag. Or as close to a white flag as you can get. You remove your shirt flinging it over your shoulder before unclipping your bra and congratulating Negan for inadvertently picking out a white set for your gift.

You lay across the ping pong table that's displayed near where you first shot Negan and hold the strap of your bra on your tip of your index finger. Then you wait, slightly uncomfortable until he see's you. The dark look that fills his eyes makes your body begin to tingle. You swish your finger and your bra dances, "do you accept my surrender?"

Negan swallows hard before he throws his gun with a clatter to the floor, "what are the terms?"

You let the bra strap slip from your finger, "what do you want?"

It's the right answer, he grins. He unzips his leather jacket and throws it on top of a display of bikes. "Oh I want it all..." he says as he squares up to the pingpong table, his hands taking your waist and dragging you across the smooth surface until you're perched on the edge. "But first I want your mouth…"

You slide from the table, your fingers tracing his zipper. The best thing about giving to Negan is getting from him in return. You kiss his jawline, smelling the scent of his skin, your nose brushing into his stubble and imagining that same stubble brushing against your inner thighs. Your kisses become more forceful, more excited, you suck his neck wanting to leave a lovebite next to all that beautiful stubble. You want him to think of you when he looks in the mirror and see's your mark. He doesn't stop you. He gives a deep throaty groan of appreciation that reverberates from your lips all the way along your body.

When you're finished Negan's thumb brushes the deep red mark and he smiles, wordlessly, his eyes locking with yours. He begins peeling off his gloves with tantalising care, throwing them on the ping pong table so his fingertips can feel your skin. You anticipate the moment with your breath held tight until his thumbs brush your nipples and you whimper.

You press your hand against his zipper and he thrusts his hips against you so you can feel his length desperate to escape for your touch. He doesn't kiss you, or pleasure you, the touch at your breasts is all for him. It's your surrender on his terms. He steps back, giving you room to do exactly what he's told you.

You sink to your knees never taking your eyes off his as you unbuckle his belt, slide down his zip and ease his cock from his jeans. He sucks in a breath, the look in his eyes urging you to continue. Begging you to continue. You lick your lips, brace his ass with your hands and smile before you let your mouth fall open, relaxing your jaw and easing your lips around the head for one torturous suck.

It makes him crazy, you can feel the tension in his body, his desperation for more, his desire to fill your mouth with his cock and take exactly what he wants. But he doesn't, he let's you have control and you like to play. You like to give him slow teasing licks that run base to tip. You like delicate feather light kisses that have him melting and pleading, "more, fuck baby, I need more."

You might be on your knees but Negan is at your mercy. Your fingers creep into your jeans desperate to relieve the pressure that's throbbing more intense with every groan of pleasure or encouragement that croons from his lips.

"Naughty girl," he pulls your hair hard, tilting your head to face him, "nobody touches that pussy until I fucking decide."

You half laugh, reluctantly removing your hand, "yes sir."

His lips curve into a smile, the grip on your hair loosening but not releasing as he guides you to his cock forcefully, but not forcing. You take him in deep, as deep as you can manage and he growls, "fuck."

His hips pump a rhythm, fucking your mouth like he wants to punish you for daring to touch yourself when you should have been touching only him. Negan doesn't usually finish like this but this time you know it's different. You know he's getting closer and closer, his breathing is more ragged, his rhythm becomes disjointed. He's looking you right in the eyes as he owns your mouth and you urge him to do it, squeezing his ass and sucking him hard. The sound Negan roars as his cum spurts down your throat is animalistic. His eyes glaze over and his hold on your hair tightens. You swallow it all, licking him clean as he breaths out the aftershocks of his release.

"That was part one of your surrender sweetheart," he steps away, zipping up his jeans, gone is the lust in his eyes now replaced by something more fiendish, "I'm gonna think about what I want for part two…" he pulls you to your feet, "until then," his finger plays with the button on your jeans, "no touching."


	3. Control

You didn't know what the second part of Negan's terms of surrender were going to be, but since you'd returned home from your joy ride with him you'd been anticipating the moment. The problem was, you'd been anticipating the moment for three very frustrating days. Even though he would never know if you relieved some of your tension, you weren't a cheater. He'd said no touching so no matter what you were officially, painfully, hands off.

Work was done for the day and you'd taken an almost cold shower before returning to your shared room to find a red box tied with a black ribbon and a note that said, 'I found another toy store'.

Two of your three roommates were in the room, you could feel their eyes burning like laser targets into the side of your face as you picked up the box and casually placed it on the table by your bunk. You couldn't open it just yet, not when they were watching you, _judging you._

Slipping your feet out of the flipflops you'd wore in the shower you flopped onto your bottom bunk, fluffing your pillow and faking sleep until you heard the bedroom door squeaking open. You prayed it was your room mates leaving but quickly realised it was something else, or more appropriately, someone else.

"Er.. we'll get out of your way Sir," one roommate insisted, followed by the other who simply mumbled, "sorry," like they had to apologise for being in their own room. It could only mean one thing.

When the door clicked shut you opened your eyes to see Negan sliding off his leather jacket, his eyes firmly fixed on you before they rested on the red box. "You didn't open it."

"In front of prying eyes?"

He slid onto the end of the matress, looking like a giant crammed on your bottom bunk, "if you married me you wouldn't have to worry about prying eyes."

"Just sharing a room with five other women."

"They don't sleep in my bed baby."

"Do you?" your voice contains more venom, more frustration than you like to use with Negan and he certainly notices it.

He cocks his head to the side, a devilish smile filling his cheeks before he picks up your foot, kissing the tip of your toe, "not tonight."

You force a smile, wondering why you're giving him a hard time. When you started sleeping with him you made yourself a deal, it was going to be sex and nothing more. Just a warm body to use while you were still alive and the world's supply of condoms were still in date. The way his thumb his rubbing rough little circles on the sole of your foot is reminding you just how much you want to stick to that deal, right now.

"Open your present," he murmurs as his lips sink against the arch of your foot.

You shift awkwardly, reaching out for the box as Negan keeps your foot firmly in his possession. You read the card a second time before unfastening the ribbons and thumbing open the lid to reveal the illicit contents. Suddenly you're thanking god you waited before opening this little box of tricks, you're throat grows dry as you pick up the tube of lube and glanced at him.

"I wanna have all of you," he says, pulling out the leather cuffs, the look in his eye challenging you.

Negan has mentioned going where no man had gone before like he was some kind of intrepid explorer journeying to mars. Only when he said it, he was referring to his cock and your ass.

You push the box of tricks onto the mattress. "I'm not sure about this."

"You surrendered, are you gonna refuse the terms?"

"And what if I do?"

"Accept the terms, break them, makes no damn difference to me. I have spent the entire fucking day thinking about you. So whatever you say I'm gonna tie you to the bed and make you so goddamn needy that you will be fucking crying for my cock and begging for mercy."

The look on his face tells you he means business and the way a tingle of excitement throbs between your thighs tells you he can do whatever he wants. "Negan," your voice is already needy as you reach for him.

He pushes you onto your back, kissing your neck, his hands sweeping under your vest as you writhe below him, knowing exactly where you need his touch. His fingers hook into your pants as he sits up, hitting his head on the top bunk with a groan.

"Fucking hell baby, this would be a whole lot more fun in my room."

"You know the rules."

"You've got more fucking rules than me."

"I have three." 1, he didn't mention his wives names. 2, you didn't ever go to his room. 3, when you decided things were over between you he accepted it no questions asked. They were the rules you'd thought you needed to protect you from the way his chocolate brown eyes made your breath catch and forget he was an emotionally unavailable fuckwad that also happened to be the best sex of your life.

"Right," he rolled off you, pulling his jacket back on before grabbing his box of tricks.

You hold back from asking, 'where are you going' or 'what are you doing?'. Desperation isn't a flavor you like on your tongue. Instead you lean your head on your hand, silently watching him with your come fuck me eyes.

"You don't like my bedroom and the last time I fucked on a bunk bed I was 15. It's not an experience I want a repeat tonight," he reaches for your hand, pulling you from the bed.

"What are we doing?" you ask, excited.

"You're coming with me," he crouches slightly and as quick as a heartbeat, Negan throws you over his shoulder, never losing grip of his little red box.

"Negan!" you protest as he turns, heading straight out of your bedroom door. You aren't keeping your relationship with Negan a secret, but you're at least trying to be discreet. At least that's what you tell yourself. Now, flung over his shoulder like a prize kill you were being anything but discreet.

As Negan marches through the Sanctuary you have no choice but to squeeze your eyes shut to at least stop yourself from seeing the people who were witnessing this moment.

You hear him kick open a door and suddenly you're falling, landing softly on a double bed in one of the rooms usually given to his top lieutenants. Negan closes the door and when he turns back, his eyes are dark and predatory. It isn't like sex with Negan is ever tender or loving but this time is going to be different, you can tell by the way he's looking at you. Like he's going to consume and own every inch of your body.

He throws off his jacket for the second time then reaches behind him, pulling his shirt over his head and flinging it across the room, revealing every inch of his lean torso and the tattoos that live there. You've already intimately explored each one but that doesn't stop your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him just like it always does.

He reaches for your yoga pants, yanking them from your legs with your panties in one fluid motion. Next he pulls off your vest leaving you as a buffet of skin which he wastes no time in tasting. His lips press hot against your stomach, his hands caress along the curves of your hips then to your waist until they're sliding along your arms, stretching them above your head, pushing them against the bars of the headboard.

When Negan begins to cuff you to the bed you welcome it, easing your hands into the straps, feeling even more desperate.

When you're bound and deliciously vulnerable he slinks off the bed, standing at the foot, his eyes taking in every stretched out inch of you like he's imprinting a mental picture into his already overflowing dirty mind. "Fucking hell baby, maybe I should have fucked your rules and tied you to my bed instead."

"You don't like rule breakers," you manage as he sinks between you legs, his face nuzzling them open, making sure to let his scruff tease you in all the right ways until he reaches your centre. He presses his nose against you, inhaling with a satisfied groan that heats your cheeks and reminds you what a dirty boy he is. Your hips lift off the bed needing more of what his hot breath is promising as it caresses you in the most toe curling places.

"Don't be greedy," he scolds, his hand splayed across your stomach to push you back down. "You'll get what you are fucking given."

You're starting to wish you hadn't been so damn good these past few days because your body is already an inferno and you don't know how much more heat you can survive as a bead of perspiration rolls down the back of your neck in anticipation.

Negan's smile is devilish as his tongue sweeps across his lips in one long tease before he finally gives you what he knows you want. He starts slow, one languid lick followed by another, building a torturous rhythm that has your hands clenching into frustrated fists as you resist the urge to push your body against his mouth, demanding more.

Negan listens to the need in your every shallow pant as his pace quickens at just the right rhythm to build you higher. You're dangerously close to the brink you can feel the fire ready to erupt and course across you body as he begins to slow his touches, winding you down, keeping close enough to make you crazy but not enough to let you fall from the edge. "You can't come until I fucking say you can," he commands, his voice vibrating enough on your body to almost tip you right up to that breathtaking edge.

"What?" You pant, delirious.

"I control when your pussy comes and I want you to fucking beg."

You groan, first in frustration then in pleasure as you feel his finger slowly sinking inside you, coating in all the wetness that's demanding his attention.

"Please Negan," you beg, giving into whatever it'll take to find your release.

"Oh baby, you're not nearly fucking needy enough!" he pumps his finger, then strokes a come hither that has you trembling before he stops, slides his finger all the way out leaving you momentarily empty, before it finds another space to fill.

You whimper, feeling invaded, instinct telling you to pull away while Negan holds your hip, anticipating your reaction and from the way he's looking at you enjoying every moment as he takes his first forbidden finger steps to owning every inch of your body.

"Trust me baby," he croons, slowly sinking the tip of his finger a little further inside as he settles his face back between your thighs and his tongue starts its torturous rhythm once more.

You relax, you trust him and it stops feeling like a forbidden invasion but more like a dirty fantasy you never knew you had. You feel yourself getting wetter and more desperate for release. You're sure that when you finally climax you'll shatter into a thousand pieces from the force of it. "Please, please," you cry out as your orgasm starts to mount so close you're sure it won't surrender but this is Negan and if wants surrender he damn well gets it.

He edges your orgasm to the point where a layer of desperate heat soaks your body and your wrists strain against the cuffs. "Desperate yet?" he taunts, standing from the bed to remove his remaining clothes with a satisfied smirk that makes you want to kill him and fuck him at the same time.

"You think you can take this?" he says, pumping his cock and kneeling on the bed.

You shake your head, knowing exactly what he's referring to, exactly where he's referring to you taking it. Your reluctance only makes his smile widen as he rips open a condom, rolling it over his shaft with a low groan. "Damn right you can't take this yet."

Negan reaches for the lube coating his finger before he spreads your legs wide, plunging his cock inside your wetness with a throaty groan before he inches his finger into your ass. "Don't worry baby, I got the patience of a fucking saint when it comes to working you up to taking my dick."

You believe it, Negan is never in a rush where pleasure is concerned. He grinds his hips, with every thrust making sure to rub against you in agonizing pleasure as his finger strokes the part you didn't know could feel so good.

You're breathing is uncontrollable as your hands curl against your restraints, sensation quickly taking control of your entire body. "Pease Negan!" you demand, you can't take another moment.

"Thats right," he whispers in your ear, his body pressed against yours, his cock pumping deep inside, "come for me baby, let it go," his husky permission sends you spiraling.

You're head falls back and you don't even know what you're saying as you rip apart, waves of red hot pleasure erupting untamed, coursing along your body hard enough to shake the bed as his finger pulls from your ass somehow intensifying every last lick of the fire thats consuming you.

Just when you think you can't take anymore Negan lifts your ankles onto his shoulders and slams into you over and over until you feel another climax quickly build, still riding the aftershocks of the last one as pleasure consumes your body hardly notice Negan's body jerking out its own release, you're too far gone, exhausted and utterly spent drifting into hazy unconsciousness that doesn't care about saying a single word to Negan or trying to open your eyes.

You have no idea how long he's let you drift in pleasured sleep but you wake up to the feel of him tugging open your restraints and kissing your wrists.

"So good," you half moan, half whisper. No man has ever made you feel like this.

Negan gives a deep satisfied chuckle that makes your tummy flutter with dizzy butterflies drunk on satisfaction.

"Your pussy spasmed so hard I thought it was gonna break my dick," he laughs hard and your butterflies retreat back to wherever they had come from as you roll onto your side, your eyes searching out your clothes before you force yourself from the bed.

"You don't have to run off, this room's your's now baby," he stretches out naked and ready for a second tumble in the sheets. Probably expecting one too.

"I'm not keeping this room."

He gives you a look that's half frown, half smile, "why not?"

No matter what rules you laid out or what you told yourself when you started sleeping with Negan you know right now as you look at him stretched across the bed with his dimpled cheeks, you're falling for him. It's probably some kind of chemical imbalance from all the great sex but you're falling. Not gracefully like a leaf falls from a tree but hard and fast like a brick tossed from a bridge and there's nothing there to break your fall. "I haven't earned this room and I'm not selling my body for special privileges. I just want... _sex_. I don't need the perks of who you are."

* * *

 **A/N-** Thanks for reading.

This was supposed to be a collection of my oneshots but has somehow ended up turning into more of a story between Negan and his one Mistress. I dunno where I'm going with this but apparently my muse can't just let them mindlessly fuck and be totally cool.

If you want more Negan, Walking Dead, JDM goodness and content I don't post on here please follow my tumblr superprincesspea


End file.
